


Home for the Holidays

by thundercaya



Series: The Workplace Warzone [22]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Christmas, M/M, death mention, large family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 05:52:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: “Mommy was right. You do listen to too much sad music.”





	

Madison would be the first person to admit that he didn’t see his siblings enough. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to see them, but that doing so was an ordeal. He couldn’t handle his siblings all at once--he wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to do so in the first place, though being the oldest it probably helped that his siblings had come into his life one at a time. He could very well see them one at a time now, but still their sheer number got in the way. Once he started thinking about making time to see Nelly, he started worrying about when he could see Ambrose, and Sarah, and Billy. He’d get overwhelmed and end up just not seeing any of them. He had resigned himself to hardly seeing them, and they had probably resigned themselves to not seeing him, but his mother simply wouldn’t stand for it. Whenever she could she did her best to gather as many of her children into her home as possible, and this Christmas was one such occasion.

Fortunately Madison had a bit of backup this time; his mother had slowly passed word around among the siblings about the situation with Jefferson, and so for the first time the man was able to accompany him to a family gathering.

They arrived late for dinner, having been caught in traffic brought on by heavy rainfall, but Madison didn’t mind one bit. He was much more comfortable with the idea of people milling about the house and approaching him for conversation rather than everyone sitting together at a table and trying to talk all at once. He was glad he had shipped the presents ahead of time and didn’t have to try to run them over from the car in the rain. Standing at the front door, Madison squeezed Jefferson’s hand then rang the bell. The door was quickly answered by Fanny, his youngest sister, though these days she was going by Taylor.

“Hi Jimmy!” she greeted. “Mr. Jefferson, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” Jefferson said.

Taylor sighed and rolled her eyes. “According to my mom, I do. And I’m the only one. How unfair is that? Well, come on in. Let me take your coats.” As she took the coats from them, she called into the house; “Jimmy’s here! We can cut into the last apple pie now!”

“Not yet!” Madison’s mother called back as she approached the doorway. She wrapped Madison in a hug. “Jimmy, so glad you could make it. I thought I made enough pie for everyone, but these people all turn into _animals_!” she yelled over her shoulder, “as soon as you bring out something sweet, so I had to set one pie aside to make sure you would get some.”

“Thank you, mother. I appreciate it”

His mother released him, then turned to Jefferson, beaming a warm smile up at him. “Thomas, I’m glad you could make it, too.”

“Glad to be here,” Jefferson said, pulling her into a hug.

A group of children ran into the entryway, and off the top of his head Madison couldn’t quite remember which children went with which siblings. A chorus of “hi Uncle Jimmy!” greeted him, but their attention quickly turned to Jefferson.

“Is that Uncle Jimmy’s friend?”

“Isn’t he running for president?”

“I like his hair.”

“He’s tall.”

“He’s not that tall! My daddy is taller.”

“I meant tall for Uncle Jimmy. Don’t you think they hurt their necks trying to talk to each other?”

Madison choked on his saliva before he realized that sentence hadn’t gone where he thought it was going. While the adults knew about the relationship, these chatty children couldn’t be trusted yet, so no one should have been making references to Madison and Jefferson straining to kiss.

“Let your Uncle Jimmy through,” Madison's mother said. “He hasn't had dinner yet.”

The hallway was lined with photographs of Madison and his siblings, the majority frozen at the same age in their senior portraits. The exceptions were a baby and two small children. Madison tapped these three photos as he passed them. “Cat. Lizzie. Rueben. Merry Christmas.”

Madison's mother led them into the den first for quick hellos before sitting them down at the kitchen table with more food than either of them could eat. Madison’s father was also in the kitchen, it being much quieter than the den, filling out a newspaper crossword puzzle.

“James,” Jefferson said, “can you hand me-” He cut off when Madison’s father looked at him. He cleared his throat. “My apologies, Mr. Madison. I was addressing your son. I would never call you by your first name.”

“Call me what you want, just don't call me late for dinner,” Madison's father said. He turned to Madison. “Your… friend doesn't call you Jimmy?”

“No one who hasn't lived in this house calls me Jimmy,” Madison said, passing Jefferson the salt the he knew the man had been asking for, “and I intend to keep it that way.”

One of Madison’s nieces came into the kitchen, and separate from the rest of the children he could remember that she was Daisy, daughter of Nelly.

“Are there any more rainbow cookies?” Daisy asked.

“Did your mother say could have more?” Madison’s mother asked.

“She did not,” Nelly said, appearing behind the girl. She picked Daisy up and sat her down at the table. “You can have some carrot sticks, though. Sit tight while I get them for you.”

Daisy crossed her arms and pouted, then seeing Madison at the table, she brightened. “Uncle Jimmy, I saw you on TV last week for the tree lighting. You were making a weird face.”

Madison never watched his television appearances back, preferring to pretend they hadn’t happened. Most of his family members had learned not to mention them, though he was certain his mother watched them, if no one else. Now it seemed he had to worry about his nieces and nephews watching as well.

Daisy grinned and pointed at him. “Yeah, that’s the one!”

Great. He still hadn’t learned to forestall that particular expression.

“It's cool that you get to be on TV and stuff,” Daisy said. “I can't wait until I'm old enough to vote for you.”

“That might not be an option anymore by then,” Madison said.

“Oh, are you getting bored of being in the congress?”

“No, but I might be dead.”

Daisy stared at him for a moment then shook her head. “Mommy was right. You do listen to too much sad music.”

Madison shot a look at his sister.

“Daisy, go take your carrot sticks to the den,” Nelly said, handing her a bowl. The girl eagerly ran off. Before Madison could even ask what that was about Nelly said; “Sorry. After we saw you for Fourth of July she asked me why you were... ‘like that’ and I wasn't ready to explain depression to her.”

“Well, when you get around to it, please explain to her that the causation is in the other direction.”

“Yeah,” Nelly said. “Will do.”

Once they were done with dinner, Madison and Jefferson joined the rest of the family in the den. The only one missing was Billy, who had barricaded himself in a guest room. It was his first Christmas with the family since his husband had passed, and it seemed that he wasn’t yet recovered enough to enjoy a party after all.

“That's a pretty nice ring, Taylor,” Madison’s sister Sarah said. “Did your girlfriend give that to you?”

“My girlfriend barely has enough money for books,” Taylor said. “This is my Christmas gift from Mom and Dad.”

“Why did you get your present early?” their brother Ambrose demanded.

“Because I'm the favorite.”

“No you’re not,” Ambrose said with a roll of his eyes. “Jimmy is the favorite.”

“Jimmy is Mom’s favorite. I'm Dad’s.”

Ambrose gave a half-shrug of defeat.

  
  
At one point, Jefferson got pulled into a conversation with Nelly and her husband. Madison didn’t know what they were talking about, but he was pretty sure it was him. He supposed he couldn't fault Jefferson if that was the case. Having to deal with all of Madison's siblings couldn't be any easier for Jefferson than it was for him. He needed to use whatever topics of conversation were available to him.

Madison felt a bit of discomfort in his lower ribs, though as he couldn’t think of anything he had eaten that day that he wasn’t supposed to, he opted to ignore it. As much as he hated people telling him that certain things were just in his head, he really couldn’t deal with being sick tonight, so he willed it to be so.

Sarah disappeared for a while then came back with her youngest daughter, Annabelle. “Jimmy, do you want to hold her?”

“Uh, sure,” Madison said, accepting the bundle onto his lap. Sarah moved on to another conversation. Several minutes later, Jefferson returned to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jefferson asked. “You’re jiggling your legs a bit.”

“Fine,” Madison said. “I just need to pee.”

“Oh, well let me take her,” Jefferson said, reaching for Annabelle.

“No.”

“No?”

“Sarah didn't say _you_ could hold her. _I'm_ responsible for this child right now.”

“I'm sure it’s--”

“Is everything okay over here?” Sarah asked.

“Yes,” Madison said.

“Your daughter is adorable,” Jefferson said. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course!” Sarah said. “Jimmy?”

Madison passed the child over, waited as long as he possibly could to make it not obvious that he'd trapped himself, then got up to take care of what he needed to take care of. When he emerged his brother Frank was in the hallway talking to their mother.

“Oh, Jimmy, there you are,” Frank said. “I  just wanted to let you know I got everything I needed out of your house. I'm kicked to the curb on Christmas Eve, but your love nest will be undisturbed.”

Madison shot a glance at his mother. “You would think I was putting him on the street instead of sending him to his parents’ house. Can you imagine living rent-free in the home of someone who lent you a lot of money, and then sassing them for wanting the place to themselves for one night?”

“James Jr., you don't do favors for people to hold it over their heads,” his mother scolded. Frank looked smug for a moment until she turned to him and said; “Francis, don't sass your brother, whether he's doing you a favor or not.”

“Fine,” Frank sighed. “Sorry, Jimmy. Enjoy your house.” He headed back towards the den. When Madison moved to follow him, his mother caught his arm.

“Jimmy, are you all right?”

"Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” Madison said.

“You weren’t in there because you’re feeling sick?”

“No, Mother, I was just…. I was peeing, that’s all.”

“Okay, well if you need to lie down at some point or--”

One of the bedroom doors opened and out walked Billy. He didn’t make eye contact with either of the two in the hallway as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Oh, Billy came out,” Madison’s mother said.

“Mother, that was years ago.”

Madison’s mother sighed. “Of his room, Jimmy. Go find Ambrose and make sure he didn’t put Merry Christmas Darling on the playlist.” Madison moved to do so, but she caught his arm again. “Wait, no. I’ll do that. You go talk to Billy.”

Madison could feel his pulse spike up. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m sure he’s tired of talking to me, and besides, you know more about….” His mother gestured vaguely. “....depression.”

“Mother, I’m depressed because God isn’t real and my very existence is exhausting. He’s depressed because his husband was crushed by a steel beam on a construction site. It’s not the same thing.”

Madison’s mother sighed. “Do you have to say things like that?”

“They just come out, Mother, and that’s exactly why I shouldn’t talk to him.”

“Please, Jimmy? I think it would mean a lot to him, and it would mean a lot to me.”

Madison took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you Jimmy,” his mother said, pecking him on the cheek.

Madison followed after Billy towards the kitchen. He found his brother sitting at the table with a plate covered only in things that didn’t need to be reheated because presumably he didn’t have it in himself to even do that.

Madison cleared his throat and his brother glanced up at him. “Hey, Billy…. Uh….”

Jefferson appeared behind Madison. “James, was there anymore--Oh, hello. You must be Billy.”

“Yes,” Madison said. “This is Billy, my brother.” He grabbed Thomas by the shoulders and shifted the other man to stand in front of himself. “Billy, this is Thomas. His wife is dead. Have a nice chat.” He darted out of the kitchen, grabbed a doorknob in the hallway, and ducked into a closet.

He regretted it instantly. God, he should not have done that. It was bad enough that he had dragged Jefferson here to suffer with him at all, but to make him think about Martha on Christmas was unacceptable. Not to mention passing off his responsibility as the older brother and refusing to do something that his mother had asked him to do. He should go back. See if it was salvageable. It probably wasn’t though. He’d ruined Christmas, irreparably. He was a disgrace as a brother and a son and a boyfriend, and did his stomach have to be so--oh no.

It was a short trip, at least, from the closet to the bathroom. His suffering was doubled now, however, because even as he revisited his dinner he still had the mental space to berate himself.

A few minutes in and there was a pounding on the door. “Jimmy!” Taylor called. “Is that you in there?”

“Could you maybe leave me the hell alone?” Madison called back. She didn’t knock again.

Once Madison was finished--really finished, because he’d had a false finish already--he put himself back together as best he could and stepped out of the bathroom. He gave a jump when the person he found outside the door was not Taylor but Jefferson, mouth pulled into a tight line. He was holding a bottle of Gatorade, which he held out to Madison.

“Taylor told me to give this to you.”

Madison took it and downed half of it, taking the excuse to formulate his words. He lowered the bottle and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that. I panicked. I fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

Jefferson nodded stiffly. “You’re obviously having a rough time, so I forgive you, but don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I won’t.”

Jefferson took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “Well your brother and I had a good talk, but you’re going to need to talk to him too.”

“Yeah.”

“But not tonight.”

Madison tried to keep the relief off his face, but failed.

“I think he’s had enough for now,” Jefferson went on. “But soon.”

“Okay,” Madison said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah. I will. I’m so sorry. I owe you big time.”

“You do,” Jefferson agreed, “but we’ll worry about that later. I’ve, uh, had enough too, if I’m honest.”

Madison nodded. “Okay, yeah. And, uh, I just wasted my dinner, so… we can head out. Go warm up the car.”

“Won’t your mother be upset if I don’t go around and say goodbye to everyone?”

“I’ll tell her what I did and she won’t hold it against you.”

“Won’t she be upset at _you_?”

Madison huffed out a laugh. “Fleetingly. Ambrose wasn’t lying; I’m her favorite.”

“You’re _my_ favorite, too.”

Madison leaned his forehead against Jefferson’s arm briefly, the greatest form of affection he was comfortable with when a niece or nephew could come barreling down the hallway at any moment. “Glad that’s still true. Go on out. I’ll see you soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Workplace? What workplace?


End file.
